


It's Not You It's Meth

by Swlfangirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: CRACK! OMG SO MUCH CRACK, College Student Stiles, Despite the title no drug use, Happy Ending, I HAVE LAUGHED UNTIL I CRIED, I dunno what else, Oblivious Scott McCall, Scott's the best friend like ever!, Sheriff doesn't know, Undercover Cop Derek Hale, explicit for later chapters, laura's alive, no drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS IDEA WAS GIVEN TO ME BY @MishaAteMyBlog although the title is all me, you're welcome people.</p><p>My first attempt at a multi-chapter Sterek fic so... wish me luck. </p><p>Stiles gets it all wrong, Derek doesn't know what the hell is going on, Scott McCall is the one to clear things up for Stiles, what? but mostly I just made myself laugh. There might have been tears of joy, (spoiler alert, there were). I don't know I'm sucky at summaries but it's good I promise!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @powerfulweak for beta'ing this for me. Any remaining mistakes are my own and I hope you guys enjoy. Once again there is only abstract talk about drugs No use, No anything, I don't think there ever will be but if that changes I'll be sure to warn you in advance! 
> 
> Written for @wearethedancingqueens on tumblr For Valentine's Day: Sterek Edition Exchange I tried to do <3 Happy Vday babe!

Derek moved through the crowd, the music pumping loud enough to cause him a mild headache. Sometimes, the built-in healing factor did not outweigh the overly-sensitive ears, or nose for that matter. He loved his job but he was twenty-five years old. The last place he wanted to spend his Friday night was some stupid college party where he could hear and smell things that he emphatically did not want to hear and smell. Nobody wanted to hear and smell them, certainly not on a more acute level, he was sure of it.

 

There were tons of opportunities staring him in the face, but he knew he had to play it cool. Wanting to get it over with had a habit of morphing into being too eager, and he didn’t want to ruin it all. A lanky elbow jammed into his side, causing a surprising amount of pain.. He turned, ready to growl at the offending human when he was met with the widest, most gorgeous, caramel eyes he’d ever seen.

 

“Dude, oh my God. I’m super sorry. You look like you’re about to eat me, which I usually would be totally on board for, but this seems more like an I-want-to-kill-you or maybe just a will-you-stop-fucking-talking moment. Sorry, I uh.. Sorry.” Derek hadn’t realized how upset he might have looked until the waatve of panic and fear assaulted his nose. He tried to remember that he was there for actual reasons that required socializing, despite how much he hated it. He relaxed his face instantly.

 

“Nah, I’m sorry. You just kind of caught me off guard.” Derek maintained eye contact. He knew that it would help him in the long run to have an in with college students, even if the guy kinda seemed like a bit of a spaz. Derek could tell by smelling him that he’d probably never done a drug in his life, but that didn’t stop him from continuing on. With the biggest fake smile he could manage plastered onto his face he asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

 

The other guy looked like he was thinking it over. He quirked his mouth to one side and his cheek hollowed out. The guy chewed on the side of his bottom lip, and Derek valiantly tamped down any thoughts he might’ve had about the gesture. His young eyes squinted, assessing the situation, then widened as if he’d come to a conclusion. His shoulders raised quickly, and the nonverbal cue might as well have screamed the phrase “Why the fuck not?”

 

Derek smiled, genuinely feeling like he’d won some kind of contest. He’d managed to not offend the kid so much that he’d been rejected. He knew that it probably had something to do with his good looks. They’d gotten him into trouble more often than not, but sometimes it really paid to be handsome.

 

“Come with me?” Derek asked, jerking his head toward the area where they had the keg set up. He didn’t want to lose the kid in the crowd, he’d already wasted so much time just getting an in with anyone. The guy nodded. Derek wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders, bringing them closer together as they moved through the room.

 

When they got to the table, Derek quickly grabbed two cups and leaned down into the kid’s personal space. He was banking on his looks to get him out of any awkwardness.Thankfully, it seemed to work as the smell of not quite arousal climbed into his nose. “Wanna find somewhere we can talk?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Just let me text Scotty so he knows where I’m at?” Derek really needed to find out the kid’s name so he could stop referring to him as the kid in his head, otherwise it would stick. Derek could tell that “the kid” was waiting on an answer, like it meant something. He nodded his head immediately as he tried to think about how that could possibly have been a test?

 

Ice bled through his unnaturally-warm veins. He realized this was the guy’s way of asking if it was okay to make sure his friend knew that he would be leaving the area, and that he wouldn’t be alone (along with several other things, probably). If Derek were to try to go around that, or move it forward too quickly, it would be a red flag. He was reassured that the kid was being safe, and it was a smart test. Even Derek hadn’t seen the ulterior motives, despite the fact that he was an observant man and had the edge of being part wolf.

 

When the kid finished sending what must have been multiple messages, Derek ushered him toward the closest empty space. It was the library, which was coincidentally the only room in the whole house that he would’ve actually wanted to be in, under normal circumstances at least.

 

“So, can I have your name?” Derek asked, not wanting to rush things. He probably could have thrown the kid up against the wall and started making out with him. It would have gotten him what he needed much sooner he imagined, but it wasn’t the way he wanted to do things.

 

“Stiles, and I’m assuming your real name isn’t Broody McHotPants.” A smirk widening the softened pink lips. Derek couldn’t help but smile at the mental nickname, it seemed Stiles was much more creative than he had been, not that he would complain.

 

“Derek.” It was best to use his real first name, no matter what procedural cop shows and the movies led everyone to believe. There was a couch that looked almost inviting in the corner of the room and he figured it was the best place to start. He glanced down toward Stiles’ hand, pausing as if to ask permission before taking it in his own and looking back up at the darkened caramel irises.

 

The smell of old books in the room sent a comforting tingle down his spine, reveling in it, he pulled them both over to the couch. When they were seated, Derek rubbed his thumb in a small circle against Stiles’ hand. “So what did you come here looking for?”

 

Stiles’ head jerked back in disbelief, or maybe confusion. Derek couldn’t really tell. His scent hadn’t changed at all, leaving no clue as to what he was feeling. The lack of his usual edge made Derek a little jumpy. He hated having to rely on his human instincts more than his wolf. He was much more comfortable with the animal inside him than he was with the man.

 

“Dude, I wasn’t looking for anything, you invited me in here remember?” Stiles’ mouth still hung open, forming the most beautiful O that he'd had ever seen, but he shook it off. Stiles was right; Derek was the one being weird.

 

“No, I just.. I mean most people come to a party looking for something; booze, drugs, sex, you know, something. I guess I just wondered what made you come out tonight.” Derek took advantage of his unease and passed it off as a slight embarrassment. He caused a small blush to form on his tanned cheeks and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

 

“Oh, oh cool. I, uh, I dunno. I’m more of a I’ll-know-it-when-I-see-it kind of guy. My friend Scott wanted to spend time with this girl he’s been practically in love with since orientation. With me being the best friend in the world, and absolutely not the kind of guy who would just leave him hangin’, here I am. voila!” Stiles gestured toward himself in a sweeping motion of his hand. Derek couldn’t help it if his gaze followed.

 

Derek tried not to lay it on too thick. He was only a little grateful that Stiles was attractive; it made his acting so much easier. He pushed closer into the empty space between them, grinning wider to throw his target a little off track. He could tell it had worked when Stiles’ heart rate began pounding even faster. Derek locked their eyes and bit his lip.“And do you, see anything?”

 

“Well maybe one or two things,” Stiles answered breathlessly. Derek watched as his eyes traced the movements of his mouth. He leaned in just a fraction of an inch. That seemed to be all it took to signal something to Stiles. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back with an eager mouth latching onto his like it’s the last fresh drop of water in the desert.

 

He probably shouldn’t have but Derek let the kiss continue. He even furthered it by pressing his lips back against the pliant and soft curve of Stiles’ mouth. He didn’t let it go too deep, but his mouth was open. He could smell the fruity alcohol so strongly that he might as well have tasted it himself. He knew that Stiles wasn’t drunk, everything about him screamed cognitive skills in tact, but Derek had a job to do. He pulled away just a little.

 

“You know what would make this even better?” He asked sweetly, moving his hand higher up on Stiles’ thigh. It was a mean trick and Derek knew it. The fact that someone attractive was kissing him only meant he needed to get it over with even sooner. The last thing he wanted was to get wrapped up in Stiles when he was just using him for info.

 

Stiles whined a little when Derek pulled away. No human would have heard it but his wolf was going crazy at the sound. He had to keep himself on track, even if his more base instincts were calling out to him. “What’s that?”

 

Derek had a gut feeling that it was probably not the best idea, but he didn’t want nothing to show for his time spent. He kept on, because at the end of the day his job was what’s important, not some college freshman with bambi eyes.

 

He pushed things further. His hand trailed the last few inches of thigh, going high enough to feel the hard outline of an erection had it been on the other leg. Derek used every wolf advantage available to avoid actually touching Stiles inappropriately. “If we could uh… enhance this, you know? You ever tried things on ice?”

 

“Wh...what?” Stiles stuttered back a little. Derek thought for sure he’d ruined things. His chest heaved, and his heart rate slowed considerably. Immediately, he knew that it meant Stiles was fully back in control of his mind and body. Like someone had dumped cold water on him, and Derek was both grateful and disappointed. He liked that someone bringing up the subject of drugs was a sobering thought for Stiles, but it also meant that his efforts had been fruitless.

 

“It’s not a big deal. I just.. I thought you’d want to have a little fun.” Derek backed off even further. He’d almost stood up completely, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away just yet.

 

“I practically grew up on ice, but I’ve never.. you know.. tried anything like that.” Stiles’ face went a little pink, splotches of red appearing on the pale expanse of his neck. Derek shook his head, unable to comprehend what just happened. There was no way on earth that this kid was on any kind of drug; he’d have smelled it if he were. The way Stiles said he “grew up on it” made it seem like someone dosed his bottles or something.

 

Derek had never experienced so many conflicting feelings: His wolf was telling him that Stiles wasn’t lying, his human was baffled and confused, but the cop in him said he couldn’t just drop it and leave it alone despite the fact that everything in him was screaming to get out of there.

 

“You should, you know… with me,” he said, not really giving Stiles the option to say anything as he continued. He pulled out his phone and began the I-have-to-get-away-act. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. My sister is going to kill me if I’m not home soon. She’s a little too overprotective and I’m all she’s got left.”

 

“No, no it’s cool.. uh. Is there, I mean.. I’d like to uh try that.. with you.” Derek heard an uptick in the now familiar beat and smelled the overwhelming nervousness. For the life of him he could not understand what was actually happening. Stiles is the last person he would have imagined to be even remotely connected to hardcore drugs. Cigarettes sure, pot maybe, but anything harder he would have never believed.

 

“Yes, yeah, sure?” Derek looked up at him, trying to give a hopeful facade. He found it a little easier than he’d like. His body felt bared and tight, like every joint and muscle was about to give up and just shoot out of his skin.

 

Stiles started to say something, but Derek cut him off with a harsh nip to his lower lip before pulling away and darting out the door and back into the crowd. He needed to set up surveillance on Stiles. There was no way in hell he was going to let him attempt to buy drugs for what, according to his instincts, was the first time.

Not without someone there to make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was a little delirious after Derek left, having kissed the sense right out of him even if it was short and sweet. He was confused, though; he had no idea why in the world Derek would wanna have sex at the rink. He wasn’t one to nit-pick, though, not when it meant he’d soon be deflowered by someone with so much… everything.

 

He sat on the couch in the library for a solid ten minutes. His eyes closed automatically as he remembered the way their mouths fit together, trying to etch every detail of the memory into his mind. When the door opened, the heavy bass beat soaked into his eardrums.

 

Stiles scanned the mass of people looking for Scott. When that didn’t work he sent a text asking if he was ready to leave. It took a couple minutes, but eventually Scott responded and agreed to meet by the front door. People crowded around him uncomfortably. Stiles pushed through the thickest part of the them and luckily came out unscathed.

 

His friend was waiting for him by the door, the smile on his face even wider than normal, which was pretty friggin’ wide for Scott. He was basically an overgrown puppy. Maybe you had to bop him on the nose with the latest edition of the Beacon Times occasionally, but he was the best friend a guy could ask for.

  
“Scotty, my man, I’ve gotta tell you about this total hottie I ran into, like I literally ran into him. He was mad at first, but then he smiled. I think it was love at first scowl, Scott. Worse than even the beautiful Lydia Martin. His name is Derek, he kissed me, well okay, maybe I kissed him but there was kissage happening. For a number of minutes, as in plural. Definitely prolonged exposure to kissing. Dude, I totally scored! I might even lose my v-card sometime in the next century,” Stiles prattled, the words coming out in a much higher pitch than he anticipated. Ah shit, I’m freaking out like a teenage girl, Stiles thought to himself until he was distracted by the memory of Derek’s hard body against him and that was it.

 

Stiles’ excitement couldn’t be contained, not after years of repression. He’d held all of the non-existent details about his imaginary sex life in the depths of his psyche. Scott babbled on haplessly: Allison this, Allison that, Allison smells like the first drop of rain in the California drought. All that poetry bullshit drove Stiles up the wall, but did he complain? Well, a little... but mostly he’d kept a lid on it, and for that he deserved a friggin’ medal.

 

“Shit, shit shit. I don’t have his number and he doesn’t have mine… I guess I’ll just have to track him down, not in that creepy stalkerish kind of way, you know.. just because he really wanted to get with this, and I’d hate for him to miss out on the opportunity,” he smiled, gesturing to himself. Scott, having had years to adjust to Stiles, just rolled his eyes.

 

They were halfway across campus, Stiles recounting Derek’s ice kink to Scott, when it happened. The day would live in infamy, Stile was sure of it. Scott McCall outsmarted? no, that’s not right... Out-heard? that’s probably best. Scott McCall out-heard him. When Stiles mentioned that Derek said that being on ice would make everything better, his best friend’s eyes grew wide as saucers. Stiles’ brows dipped in curiousity. “Dude, why you looking at me like that?”

 

“Woah, you’re not really going to do drugs just to lose your virginity to this guy are you?” Scott stopped them both, throwing out an arm in front of Stiles’ path. Stiles’ head jerked back, thinking this was one of the many times Scott was just a little off in the head area.

 

“Dude, I listened to the ‘Just Say No’ lectures like a million times from my dad and everyone else in the station. You really think I’d do drugs? Where did this even come from. Derek just wants to fuck me on the ice, I’m pretty sure he wants to fuck me, maybe he wants to get fucked.” Stiles mouth turned down in consideration; he thought it was  a passable idea. Either way, he was very, very, on board.

 

“Stiles, listen carefully, did he say on THE ice or did he just say ice, because you know ice is like… a drug of some kind. I dunno, I heard someone talking to Jackson about it a while back.” Scott looked incredibly concerned, and Stiles knew immediately he was serious. He tried to think back to their conversation; it did seem more likely that Derek was referring to drugs, now that Stiles was paying attention to something other than his gorgeous fucking everything.

 

“Fuck my life, of course I had to be the one who fell for a druggie. Is that better or worse than falling in love with a stripper?” Scott just rolled his eyes at him.

 

“I’m serious, Scotty. This isn’t good, as a matter of fact it’s super, super, bad. Just…ugh something is not adding up. I’d know if the guy was on something, there’s no way that would have slipped past the Stilinski inspection. Oooh, maybe he’s an undercover cop!”

 

“Stiles, c’mon, man. That only happens on TV, and your dad’s the sheriff. You know how this stuff goes. There’s no way you couldn’t.”

 

Stiles let the words wash over him. Scott was right. The only time real cops went undercover was when people were dying, fast, and they had no other option. There hadn’t been a ton of drug related deaths in the papers lately, so he knew that was highly unlikely. Okay, so maybe he kept an eye on things, so what? The sheriff would have been disappointed if he hadn’t.

 

Stiles was mostly quiet for the rest of their walk back to the dorm. His gut was screaming at him that Derek wasn’t a bad guy. Stiles knew that he could trust him, but he was a firm believer in better safe than sorry.

  
It took hours to fall asleep that night, but he eventually did. After realizing that he didn’t have any way of contacting Derek, he only became more determined. He had no idea what would happen in the new world he was embarking on. One thing was for sure, though: he wouldn’t give up on Derek.

* * *

 

I have two more chapters written at the moment, going through the beta process. I don't plan things out so I don't know how long it will be or anything but lemme know what you think. Kudos, comment, or find me on [Tumblr ](swlfangirl.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke up earlier than he’d intended, his heart still stuttering from the very vivid dream. He could almost still feel the slight stubble against his cheek, the hot foreign breath in his mouth, and the taste of mint on his tongue. When his eyes opened, Stiles groaned at the fact that it was still very much dark outside his dorm window, meaning it wasn’t even daylight yet. It was well past three when he’d fallen asleep and, sure enough, when he checked his phone it had only been a couple hours.

 

Fighting a losing battle was something Stiles knew well. There was no sense in even trying to go back to sleep. His feet moved him in the general direction of the coffee pot he’d invested in for their room, money well spent in his opinion. Trying to be quiet, he slipped into the desk chair and gave a healthy yawn. He had research to do and hoped he wasn’t on the wrong end of the “Uncle Sam’s watching you.” lottery.

 

He mostly just stared blankly at the screen as he waited. When the familiar beep signaled his cup of “wake the hell up” was ready, he nearly fell out of his chair. Stiles was never more grateful that Scott was a sound sleeper.

 

Utterly baffled by the fact that his friend knew something that he didn’t, Stiles was not going to let that be the case for any longer than necessary. He was the smart, kind-of-assholey one, while Scott was the more loveable one. Stiles knew that his friend wasn’t the brightest person, but he had plenty of other redeeming qualities.

 

By the time Scotty woke up, Stiles had downed the whole pot of coffee, the last cup having been emptied over an hour earlier. Stiles had spread his research materials to cover most of their very small dorm room. He was on his way to being a proficient drug analyst, he was sure of it. Stiles thought about what he should do. Knowing he’d never actually take drugs, (not even for Derek) he had to think of something.

 

“STILLLLLLESSSS,” Scott whined. Stiles assumed he’d finally opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the unmissable mess he created.

 

“Dude, research!” was all he had to say. Scott groaned loudly but dropped it. It was customary for Stiles to get a little deranged in the name of science, so it really wasn’t anything new.

 

“Please tell me you’re not using my brand new laptop to google drug stuff, Stiles.” Scott sounded pissed, which was fair, but not unexpected.

 

“Well I couldn’t use mine. They could trace it back to me.” Stiles answered, which wasn’t one of his finer moments, but Scotty should be used to it by now.

 

“You and I are going to be on TV one day, man.” Scott said dreamily, which threw him off considering his best friend was fairly pissed just a split second ago.

 

“Why in the world would we be on TV?” Stiles asked. He was genuinely curious as to what was happening in the mostly void headspace between Scott’s ears.

 

“Starring on an episode of _Snapped._ I can’t wait to watch it from my prison cell. I’ll bet they get that weird spazzy guy to play you. What’s his name again? Michael Cera?”

 

To say Stiles was offended was an understatement. So obviously, he rushed Scott and tickled him until he apologized for being so tasteless as to mention the name Michael Cera in any context.  

 

“Give up, Scotty? I’m pretty sure you’re defenseless against my expertly trained fingers.” Stiles says, digging in even further on Scott’s moving sides. His friend was squirming and screaming nearly loud enough to wake the entire building.

 

“Sttttiles, I..I’m gonna kill you. Murrrrder you in your sleeee-hahaha-p. I haaaaate you.” Scott tried to get the words out even though Stiles knew he had to be close to breathless.

 

“That didn’t sound anything like ‘I’m sorry, Stiles,’ ‘You’re the best friend ever, Stiles,’ or my personal favorite ‘Stiles, you are supreme ruler and I am but a mere humble peasant.’” Stiles smiled even wider as Scott thrashed wildly on his bed, the covers going in every direction as his body jerked and clenched under the offending tickle torture.

 

“Fuuuuuck you,” He was unbelievably proud of himself. The fact that he’d reduced Scott “puppy face” McCall to using curse words would have to be enough of a reward, for now. Getting back to work was his number one priority. The research was mostly done, but he still didn’t really have a plan.

 

“Love you too, buddy,” he said, finally releasing Scott from his grip. Stiles moved quickly back to his bed. The comfort he found there was nice. “I’m gonna grab a couple more hours. Maybe I’ll dream the solution to all of my problems.”

 

He hadn’t taken any adderall, so he didn’t need to worry about that keeping him awake. He could feel his body refusing to push on any further and quickly closed his eyes. The darkness behind his lids was a warm welcome. He really, really enjoyed being unconscious sometimes.

 

Stiles jerked awake somewhat violently and grabbed a pen, not wanting to forget a single thought.

 

It happened. He’d _actually_ dreamt of a solution: He’d go undercover. If the police weren’t going to then it looked like he’d have to take matters into his own hands.

 

First stop, his dad’s house. He needed info and the sheriff had access to it.

 

Showering went quickly; he was dressed and ready to go in under an hour. Stiles pulled on his favorite red hoodie and headed out the door. The Jeep purred under his touch despite the fact that she was clearly struggling to stay in one piece, much like himself most of the time.

 

Pulling into the familiar driveway, he’d let out a deep breath.  Being away at college was cool, and the fact that it was only a thirty minute drive was even better. He missed his dad, though, just as much as he had the first time he went to sleep-away camp.

 

Only, this was now a thing. A thing he’d have to get used to for the better part of his life. He took the comfort of the small distance as a win and choked down the rest of it. He wasn’t going to get emotional just from pulling into the damn driveway.

 

The door creaked a little as Stiles pushed his way inside, the recognizable smells of his dad’s chili cooking on the stove hit his nose and he groaned. _Yes, the very short distance was a good thing, not co-dependant at all._

 

“Lucyyyy, I’m home.” Stiles exaggerated his fake Cuban accent, hoping to give his dad a small chuckle. The kitchen was warm when he stepped inside, even though the table was missing a taller, older man, who kinda reminded him a little of himself in some ways.

 

“Papa Bear?” he called out, scrambling up the stairs.

 

Stiles jerked his head back and ran down the stairs when he heard a choked sound. Clasping his hands together on the table he prayed to any deity that would hear it, that his father was just throwing up, had a sore throat, or was choking on a cough drop to go with his sore throat. _NO!_ his mind screamed far too late to be of any use.

 

Scrubbing his eyes was not enough to make the horrid, torturous images stop. Wishing he had acid, bleach, or some other harsh chemical to be applied directly to his brain was the only option available to him. He would have left, but he’d have to face his dad at some point and he needed the damn information he’d came for. Stiles dug his palms into his eyes harder, hoping to to numb them at the very least.

 

His father leapt, glided, descended, cascaded (any word other than ‘came’) down the stairs a few minutes later no one trailing in front of or behind him. Maybe Stiles imagined it. Maybe it was just some weird mistake that he’ll never have to think about ever again.

 

“We need to talk, son.” Okay, so not imaginary then. How the fuck was this even his life? Stiles opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair, hoping to convey a more relaxed attitude than he had. Crossing one leg over his knee, he let it shake  some of the unease out of him.

 

“Y-yeah, okay.” Stiles had to be real, despite the stomach-churning thoughts of his dad having sex or whatever. Stiles wanted to make sure there was no misunderstandings about the fact that it was just the normal amount of “Parent Sex, ewww gross” and had nothing extra on top of it.

 

“First, you don’t live here anymore. You’re always welcome, you know that, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to text or call, give some kind of notice.” He paused, seemingly defeated before shaking his head and pushing on. “Stiles, I… I know that you don’t like to think about these things, but I, we... need for it to be out in the open.”

 

The tremors in his hand were giving him away, maybe as much as his leg but he ignored it. His dad was trying to be straight with him and he just needed to let it happen.

 

“I can do that, Pops, call or whatever. I didn’t know I’d needed to,” he answered, looking at the floor waiting for it to open and swallow him whole.

 

It didn’t.

 

“We wanted to tell you, thought it would be a nice Christmas surprise… but uh.. it seems like there’s…” he trailed off, or maybe Stiles  was just tuning him out. He would have cared if he didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs, curious as to who would finally make an appearance.

 

“ _OH MY GOD!”_ Stiles shrieked, and he was not the shrieking kind. His mind swirled with a thousand different emotions. Disgust, excitement, confusion, elation, curiosity, wonderment. He was pretty sure anything that could be felt, was coursing through his veins at that moment.

 

“Melissa?” he gaped. His mouth still fully open, signaling his shock, amongst other things. Stiles looked from her to his dad and back again. He and Scott had always hoped, nay, dreamed this day would come, but they never actually thought it would. Once the surprise element was stripped from the situation, a sarcastic grin raised his lip to one side until he was practically beaming.

 

“Is this real? You guys are like.. dating or whatever? _Oh God_ , please tell me you’re dating and this isn’t some kind of weird the-dam-finally-broke-on-the -sexual-tension thing right? Owwww my brain”

 

“Stiles, shut up.” The sheriff’s eyes widened and his head jerked back, adding in his normal “I got the defective kid” glare. “Of course we’re dating… we have been for quite some time.

 

“Whew, thank goodness. I would have hated to have to tell Scotty that you were just messin’ around with his mom. That would _not_ have ended well.” Stiles leaned  his body as far over his knees as he could presumably get, before his head snapped up to Melissa’s voice.

 

“While it’s so great of you to worry about my… honor, Stiles. I’m perfectly capable of making decisions all by myself. I’ve been doing it for years. Also, you will not be telling Scott a word of this. As a matter of fact I think you’ll be staying right here, without a phone, and be perfectly quiet about what you’ve just witnessed. While I, on the other hand, will go home, call my son, and invite him to join us for dinner where both your father and I will tell him ourselves. We good?” she asked. He knew there wasn’t really another option.

 

“Yeah, sure… of course.” Stiles nodded toward her to emphasize his agreement. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Scott anyway, he told himself bitterly.

 

The sheriff’s pleased smile was enough to settle a nice warmth inside him. Seeing his father happy was the best thing he could have asked for, so he’d let go of a little parental unit sex awkwardness. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t be there to experience the over excessive puppy eyes that would overtake his best friend. He could deal with not being the one who said the words.

 

“Bring it in!” He opened up, dropping his propped up leg to the floor and outstretching his arms, moving slowly toward her in a zombie-like fashion.

 

Melissa quirked an eyebrow, but dropped it quickly and shook her head fondly at him. Her keys scraped against his back, but he was so happy he didn’t care. After she’d released him, he sat back down. He didn’t want the emotion of what was happening to overwhelm him or cause his knees to give out. Before leaving, Melissa ducked her head in and gave the sheriff a big kiss. Stiles felt a blush heating his cheeks as he looked away. Then he realized something, and _“Oh, God. Even my dad got laid before me!”_

 

Apparently he’d said that aloud because the next thing he knew both Melissa and his father was staring at him.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Okay, while it’s nice to know that you’re hypothetical virtue is in tact… Please tell me that you realize that I wasn’t actually a virgin before this happened. You didn’t miss every day of health class, and now have no idea how biology works right?” The sheriff seemed genuinely concerned, and Stiles balked in offense.

 

“Hey, I’m the smart one!” he countered, because, well, he was, and the sooner everyone got on board with it the better.

 

“Yeah, sure you are kid,” his dad teased, patting him on the shoulder before walking Melissa to the door.

 

Stiles bit back an “ _I am,_ ”  in return.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long for Derek to realize his mistake. He’d left the party without giving Stiles a way to contact him. Maybe it was just his conscience doing him a favor; he should probably not look a gift horse in the mouth. Derek told himself that it made things easier, but it didn’t explain the itch beneath his skin that buzzed at the thought of having Stiles against it again.

 

The door to the station opened easily as he pushed his way inside. Derek smiled at Ramona; she was a full officer but mostly just worked as the Desk Sergeant. The sheriff knew that she was a single mom and had been adamant about her not being on the streets unless absolutely necessary.

 

“Hey, is the Sheriff in?” Derek asked, scooting closer to the small counter in front of him.

 

“Nah, he should be back any minute though. You can wait for him in his office, Hale.” Derek knew that having just joined the force left him in a somewhat vulnerable position. Nobody quite trusted him, despite all of his attempts to prove he was worthy of it. Bringing down the people responsible for hooking their kids on life-threatening drugs would be just the ticket he needed to get in their good graces. He just needed another in.

 

Derek groaned internally, thinking of the possibility that he’d have to go to yet another Friday night rave. He took a seat opposite the sheriff’s desk and waited. Normally he was patient but with everyone watching him, Derek found his unease growing, and with that so did his senses.

 

He picked up a faint smell that seemed familiar; it took a solid couple minutes for him to place it. Why in the world would he be smelling Stiles at the police station? Logical thought would lead him to believe that it was because the kid got arrested. When he’d said he grew up on ice, Derek honestly didn’t believe a word of it, but this had to at least add a shred of credibility to his story.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to focus, looking around the room. He tried to soak it all in and distract himself from the way Stiles looked breathless when he’d left.

 

There were pictures frames on the desk facing away from him. He knew the sheriff had a girlfriend, but was curious to see what he deemed important enough to put on display. Knowing he’d hear him long before he’d have a chance to get caught snooping. He decided a small search of photo frames, which couldn’t possibly be too prying.

 

Derek flipped one around toward himself, a gorgeous woman smiling at the photographer. He recognized her immediately as Melissa McCall and put her picture back down.

 

When he turned the next, his heart sped up uncontrollably. A crushing tightness grew in his chest as he took in the details of the photo. It was the sheriff with his arm slung over the shoulder of a younger version of an all too familiar toothy grin. Stiles was standing there looking at the man like he hung the moon. Their features were much too alike for Derek not to see the resemblance.

 

 _“Fuck.”_   Derek had to leave, needed to get out of there and fast. He smiled at Ramona on his way out but didn’t stop to give an excuse for his abrupt departure.  The last thing he could do was process the fact that he’d literally offered to sleep with the sheriff's son if he scored him some drugs. No wonder Stiles hadn’t found him; he was probably somewhere right now describing him to the sheriff as Judge Weaver signed the warrant.

 

The comfort that his Camaro provided wasn’t enough to calm him down as it usually would have. This was all too much. Without realizing what he was doing, Derek pulled the phone from his pocket and hit 1.

 

It rang three times before Laura picked up, “Der? Everything okay?”

 

As his Alpha, she could sense that he was on edge, even with the distance being what it was. He took a deep breath and tried to form words. There was a scratchiness to his voice but he managed to croak out something that resembled his location and that he needed her.

 

He hung up, swallowing around the lump in his throat before turning the radio up loud enough to deafen his senses. Deep breaths flooded his lungs with oxygen but it did nothing to stop him from freaking out. Less than twenty minutes later, Laura was pushing herself into his passenger seat and laying a hand on his arm. Her eyes flashed red and, for the first time since he saw the frame, Derek felt like his life might not be completely falling apart.

 

“I did something really stupid. I don’t know how you can be so smart and still biologically related to me.”  
  


“Well that’s easy: I got all the best genes. There was nothing left for you guys,” she teased, causing an actual warmth to surge through his veins.

 

“How do you feel about New York? We could move, start all over somewhere else, somewhere no one can find us…” he started, quickly cut off by his sister.

 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Der.” Laura tilted her head to the side as if she couldn’t believe he was being so dramatic.

 

“I propositioned a guy at a party last weekend for sex, or more specifically sex on drugs, while trying to make a name for myself by taking down the ring of traffickers over at the university. It was an unauthorized undercover job with no support by the Sheriff's Office. Today I found out that the guy just happens to be the sheriff’s son.” Derek gave her a look that clearly said he wasn’t being over dramatic, in fact he might be underselling the situation he’d gotten into.

 

Laura paled a little under the new information, and paling was not something Laura Hale was capable of… or hadn’t been, so he thought.

  
“So, upper East Side?” Laura asks,  “I’m thinking, townhouse apartment.”

* * *

 

Okay so I made a video to go with this fic, I'm not sure how applicable one will be to the other but I am going to try to make it work. The actual video is much more serious than the fic is at the moment, I'm not sure that's going to change. I don't plan ahead for fics, I usually just start typing and what happens; well, happens. Feel free to check the vid out, and lemme know what you think, good, bad, whatever. 

 

[It's Not You, It's Meth on Youtube.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqWy_e83Z8M)

 

Find me on [Tumblr](swlfangirl.tumblr.com)

 

Also, a huge thank you for @PowerfulWeak, she is beta'ing this for me. All mistakes are my own! 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles had already gone through most of what the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department had on meth makers, dealers, sellers, and buyers. He couldn’t believe there was so much going on that he’d missed. He’d be the first person to tell you that he wasn’t interested in the underground substance train. The fact that so much of it was right in front of him and he’d been completely blind to it was shell-shocking to say the least.

 

He’d only just gotten back to campus when his early Monday morning class was due to start. He pushed through the door of the lecture and took his seat. When he noticed a familiar shape in front of him, he couldn’t resist; after all, old habits die hard.

 

“Psst, Danny,” he started, tapping his pencil against his desk. He was never able to just sit still. Okay, there were a couple times but they were few and far between, usually situated in the midst of chaos and pain.

 

“Māhealani, I’m talking to you,” Stiles continued, because he knew eventually it would work, and for the most part he’d left the guy alone during class.

 

The broad perfectly muscled back turned to give him a view of his classmates’ pretty face. _Lost opportunities_ , Stiles thinks to himself. Then he remembered Derek and decided it was probably for the best. He loved Danny, hell everyone loved Danny, but Derek was… Derek was different. Unable to tamp down the warm fuzzy feeling, he grinned widely at his occasional friend.

 

“What, Stiles?”

 

“Hypothetically, if I wanted purchase and/or sell something that rhymes with “Dice”, where would the best place to start. I mean...physical location, not like thinking through the process. Which I already have by the way. Totally on board.” He nervously chews on his pen as he takes in the utter betrayal on Danny’s face.

 

“What makes you think I know anything about the drug rings of Beacon Hills, Stiles.” he bit out. Clearly, Stiles had picked the world’s second most perfect puppy in the world and pissed him off, because it was just his luck. “Jesus, I mean I get the gay stuff, that was obvious… but I’m not your fucking guru,”

 

“Noo, man no, nothing like that. I uh... I just know that everyone likes you, which means you’re probably in the know about a lot of things. Look man, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he resists the urge to laugh and point out the obvious pun, powering through like a trooper. “I met this guy, and he uh… I think he’s a good guy but for some reason he wanted to, ya know... with me while on ‘dice’. I’m not gonna do it or anything, I just need to find him. This is the only clue I have, so I’m kind of mining any resource, hoping to catch a break.” Stiles gave his best smile, wanting it to be enough to get him back in on the right side of his friend.

 

Danny huffed, clearly just wanting the conversation to be over, but feeling some sort of fond responsibility for Stiles.

 

“You didn’t hear this from me, but I think if you were looking for ‘dice,’” he said, rolling his eyes, “you’d be more likely to find out something from Jackson or just go hang out and listen around in the common room over in Wellman”

 

“Thank you, Thank you, Danny. You are a beautiful human and statues should be erected in your honor. I will sing your praises from now until the world ends in a fiery explosion!” Stiles beamed, sitting back in his chair. He tried to hide his eagerness, but his foot tapped relentlessly against the tiled floor as he waited for class to be over.

 

He was more than a little excited that his next class wasn’t for three hours. Stiles jogged across campus, a smile lighting his face the entire way. He’d gotten more information from Danny in ten seconds than the BHSD had collected in months. Knowing that he would need to calm himself down, he grabbed his usual coffee in decaf form.  

 

Stiles headed toward the dorms. Jackson was always the last option in any equation, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him. He was resourceful and he had intel for the first time since he started this.

 

Nothing would stand in his way. He had a Derek to find.

 

Well, that and, you know, shedding light on the nefarious hooligans of Beacon Hills.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek was never more grateful that he had a sucky-ass schedule. He was on for eight days straight but then off for three in a row. If he’d had to go back and face the Sheriff immediately after finding out that Stiles was his son, he doesn’t know what he’d have done. Thankfully, Laura was taking him out on a “day date.” They both hoped he’d be able to calm down about _the incident_ , as he referred to it in his head.

 

He didn’t.

 

Even less so when they were standing outside the diner getting ready to go in. He took a deep breath and caught a familiar scent.

 

“Laura, he’s coming. If he asks, tell him you haven’t seen me,” Derek said, before ducking into the alley and crouching behind a particularly rank dumpster. Not even a minute later he heard the Sheriff’s voice.

 

“Laura? Hey, you settling in okay?” Derek listened for any irregularities in the Sheriff’s tone, but it was still, calm,  and he breathed a little easier.

 

“Yeah, I’m just grateful to be back home in Beacon Hills.”

 

“Well. we sure are lucky to have you. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure no small-town District Attorney's office has ever been so fortunate. Come on inside and grab lunch with me, my treat. Think of it as a the proverbial welcome wagon that you missed,” he replied with a small laugh. Derek couldn’t help but smile. The pride was clearly displayed on his face for everyone to see, except nobody was looking.

 

Laura’s heart rate picked up just a little, but he heard her follow the Sheriff inside. She cooed over his niceties but the conversation didn’t stop there.

 

“Where’s that brother of yours? I’ve been looking all over town for him.” Dread pooled in his stomach when he heard the words.

 

“Have you tried him at home? If he’s not there, you can check Trisha Atwell’s place. Turns out my brother just cannot stay away from _trash_.” Derek rolled his eyes at Laura’s horrible remark. Trisha wasn’t trash. she wasn’t his type, not in the least, but she wasn’t garbage. Laura just held grudges for longer than anyone had a right to.

 

Derek knew the face the Sheriff was making at the moment, even though he couldn’t see it. “Real funny, I’ll tell her husband to keep an eye out.”

 

“I was kidding, mostly. What do you want with Der?” Derek almost whined when Laura used his nickname. _Almost_. That was the important part.

 

“Oh, nothing major. I was just hoping to run into him during my errands. Ramona told me he came to see me the other day and I just wanted to touch base. Stiles came home for the weekend, so I didn’t make it back to the office as early as I’d planned.”

 

He swallowed hard. There hadn’t been any mention of a warrant, or needing an explanation even, so maybe he didn’t know. There was a chance, however small, that Stiles didn’t tell his dad. Hell, maybe he didn’t even remember himself. Derek’s body relaxed and his heart began to thump a softer inside his chest.

 

“Oh, how is Stiles? I can’t believe I haven’t already asked. I swear my mother brought me up with manners. I must have lost them somewhere along the way.” Laura’s tone was playful and Derek wanted to growl at her to shut up, but that would mean giving away his position. No way in hell was he doing that.

 

“It happens to the best of us. He’s fine though, spending most of his time in class or doing God-knows-what.” He stops long enough to order a coffee along with Laura’s lunch before picking back up again. “Frankly, I don’t want to know. He’s always been a good kid where it mattered and I trust him with everything, but he’s got a wild streak a mile wide. “

 

“I think most of us did when we were a little younger,” Laura laughed. Derek knew she was silently plotting his demise for making her feel so uncomfortable with the Sheriff. They weren’t exactly best friends, but she did need to be able to work closely with the department.

 

“Yeah, there ain’t nothin’ gonna stand in his way to get what he wants. I admire him for it, as much as it terrifies me,” he laughed, barely slowing down to take a breath.

 

“Got a good heart, though. He musta got that from Claudia. I’ve always been the kind that wants law and order. Stiles has always taken more of a chaotic, but just approach to the world. He’s already trying to help some poor kid struggling with addiction. He thinks he can make a difference, and Hell, I’ve seen him do some pretty amazing things, so I can’t not believe in him.”

 

Laura chimed in with the occasional “oh?” or “yeah” or something else that would convince him that she was listening. Derek closed his eyes and bit his lip. Unless Stiles had another _friend_ who was supposedly hooked on something, he actually _had_ told his dad about Derek. Thankfully, it didn’t seem he was naming names, so at least there was that thought to comfort him.

 

Once they moved on over to work-related topics Derek stopped listening, instead opting to climb in Laura’s SUV and lay the seat back. He prayed no one saw him, certainly not his boss.

 

He’d almost drifted off to sleep in the warm interior of his sister’s car when he heard it.

 

“Have a good evenin’ Ms. Hale. If you see Derek, tell him to get in touch with me when he can. I worry about my deputies, even when they’re off duty.” Derek felt a warmth growing in his chest. Even though the words were innocent enough, Derek could count on one hand how many people actually cared for him enough to _be_ concerned. It was one, just Laura. It seemed to grow to three fairly quickly.

 

Derek’s face drew up in a wide smile. Stiles might have been going about things awkwardly, but the fact that he thought he needed to save Derek from himself was a sign that he cared about more than just a hook-up. Derek’s had people lie about worse things than drugs to try to get him into bed. Maybe this could work. He’d just have to tell Stiles that it was all a misunderstanding and trust that he wouldn’t ruin the entire operation. Yeah, he’s got this completely under control now.

 

_Literally three hours later..._

 

“Derek, I know it’s not really your job, but I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d keep eyes on my son. Stiles is getting into a dangerous situation trying to help out a friend, and He’s likely to do something stupid. If I put you near the campus for the next couple weeks can you watch out for him? Could you do that for me, son?” the Sheriff asked, his eyes pleading even more than his words.

 

“Yeah.” Derek heard himself saying.

 

 _Fuck,_ _Derek thought._ He was utterly and completely screwed!

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles spent almost all his time out of class conducting surveillance in the large room of the Wellman Hall Dormitory. It wasn’t like he expected immediate results, but he’d spent so much time investigating over the last two days that there were people who legitimately thought he lived there. He was just about to pack his things up and head back to his room when he heard a familiar voice.

 

“Friday night. There’s an old warehouse over on fifth. It’s got this like... huge space over top of it so we’re throwing a black light party. You should come hang out. Gonna be plenty of opp there. I’d hate to see you miss out.” Jackson Whittemore was not subtle. He might as well have stuck flyers up around campus that said _I’ll be selling drugs here this weekend,_ with the address written across the bottom under a huge picture of his face.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. His back was turned to the conversation, but he was pretty sure that Jackson hadn’t noticed him. He probably would have said something if he had. That douche didn’t have a history of being particularly quiet whenever he managed to find himself in Stiles’ general vicinity.

 

He waited patiently (okay, not so patiently, but he friggin waited all the same). When he heard the sound of Jackson's’ footsteps grow fainter, he turned around to see who it was that he’d been talking to. It was a tall, athletic-looking guy, but Stiles didn’t recognize him. Gathering his books, he moved toward the door. Jackson might not be the subtle type, but Stiles was. He knew better than to approach the dude immediately after _that_ conversation.

 

Trying not to skip, Stiles headed back to his dorm. He also attempted to tone down the smile on his face. He failed but couldn’t be bothered to care. He was one step closer to finding Derek. Well, that and you know… the other stuff.

 

When he pushed through the door Scott was waiting there for him with a familiar intervention poster hung up over his bed.

 

“Dude, it’s fine. I’m done hanging out in Wellman, okay?” Stiles offered a small pout to sell his story, which was technically true in most respects. Scott’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if he wasn’t buying it. Which, _pfft_ , wasn’t just mildly offensive but downright insulting.

 

“Why now? Why was it today that you decided you’re done looking for the campus druggies?” Scott’s uneven jaw slid to the side just a bit, making it even more obvious. He crossed his arms defensively as if he were preparing for an argument. Usually, Stiles would have went a couple rounds of verbal debate with his best friend that he would win, but he was feeling too excited about the prospect of seeing Derek in just a couple days.

 

“As much as I love you Scotty, and you know I do, this really isn’t any of your business,” he attempted. It wouldn’t be smart to have Scott involved in his investigations. Stiles knew that things could go sideways fast and he would be prepared, but he couldn’t knowingly drag his best friend in the whole world into a dangerous situation. Sure, he’d gotten the guy in trouble before, and vice versa, but sneaking out late to goof off in the woods was one thing. Taking Scott to a party where he was attempting to get himself involved in drug distribution, not gonna happen.

 

Stiles tried to ignore the look of hurt that passed over his friend’s face.

 

“Stiles, come on. I know you and I know that you’re not going to do drugs, or something even more stupid, over a guy. But you gotta understand, from my side, this looks really bad. You’re totally wrapped up in this You’re barely going to class, sleeping even less than you normally do, and now you’re telling _ME_ , your best friend, one of your only friends that you actually care about, you’re just saying drop it? What the hell, man? I thought… Nevermind what I thought, I guess. It’s none of my business right?”

 

Scott pushed past him, brushed hard into his shoulder and stormed out. He’d make it up to him somehow, Stiles knew he would. Scotty wouldn’t stay mad at him forever. Would he?

 

_FUCK_

 

* * *

 

 

Keeping an eye on Stiles would have been much easier if he’d given the kid his number. After three hours of searching campus for any scent of the kid _(ah hell it had stuck)_ Derek was incredibly frustrated. There were hints of him everywhere but nothing concrete. He shook his head and stopped for coffee. It was going to be a long night.

 

When he opened the door to Smith Hall, the scent was overwhelming. Stiles had been there recently. He moved further into the building and the delicious smell grew even more apparent. The common room was the most concentrated version of it that Derek had experienced, outside of actually sniffing Stiles’ neck when they were wrapped up in one another on the couch.

 

 _Stiles must live here,_ he thinks to himself as he pushes past the large room in the center of the building. However, on the other side the scent cuts off. Not a little fading, which would be typical, but completely Stiles-less. No matter what, Derek didn’t whine at the missing scent.

 

It didn’t make sense to him. Why was Stiles all over the place in the first half of the building but nowhere near the dorm areas? Derek knew that no one had ever come close to as being as confusing or interesting as the Sheriff’s son. Instantly, the attraction he felt toward Stiles’ scent was drowned by a bucket of cold water when he thought of his boss.

 

The last thing he needed was to let his thoughts of Stiles go any further. Reminding himself why he was there in the first place was always a great idea. He could get through the weekend if he remembered that Stiles wasn’t just a gorgeous guy with a lithe body that felt good beneath his hands. No, he was the Sheriff’s son. If that wasn’t enough to sober Derek’s thoughts about putting his hands back on the kid, well, nothing would.

 

He was just about to back out of the dorm when he overheard a conversation.

 

“Where’s that guy?”

 

“What guy?”

 

“The cute one who’s been sitting right there in that seat, almost constantly every day this week! How could you have possibly missed him, Jackson?”

 

“I dunno, man. I don’t need to look around, I’ve already got something to put my dick in.”

 

“Always such a romantic, Whittemore. Seriously, though… I was gonna ask for his number today. I’d finally gotten up the nerve and what? He just disappears? Whhhhy is this my luck?”

 

“Dude, whoever this guy is, he’ll probably be at the party Friday. Just hook up with him there.”

 

“Yeah I guess that works, I just don’t wanna miss him again. He has these adorable little moles that are scattered all down the side of his neck. Just tiny ones but I wanna just lick them and-”

 

“Oh my God! Shut up Jason! Just shut the fuck up right now. I do not want to know about your sex life, man.”

 

Derek growled, unable to keep the sound from escaping his throat. The thoughts of someone else having their hands on Stiles caused his wolf to go crazy. He barely had enough control to keep from shifting, partially at least. Both guys turned to face him, and immediately he regretted the sound.

 

“Dude, what’s your problem?” The guy who was apparently Jackson stepped closer into his space and Derek took a deep breath.

 

“Nothing,” Derek said, backing away and heading toward the door. He needed to get out of there before his eyes flashed blue and his fangs came out completely. They’d been on the verge of appearing since “Jason” had said the word moles.

  
If nothing else, he could go to the party, right?


End file.
